


Tell It Like It Is

by BronteLover



Series: Mates Verse [10]
Category: Penny Dreadful (TV) RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Exotic Location, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Birth Scene, Hurt Jared, Independent Jared, Jensen Being an Asshole, M/M, Mpreg, Older Jensen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Surrogacy, Top Jensen Ackles, Wealthy Jensen, inexperienced jared, younger Jared
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronteLover/pseuds/BronteLover
Summary: Jared is hired as Jensen's omega surrogate, but things become complicated when Jared has to give up the baby.





	1. Be my, be my Baby

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is, and the lyrics at the start of this chapter are, taken from the song of the same name, which I, of course, do not own and never will. I write these works for non-profit entertainment, and all persons mentioned and portrayed in this story are autonomous human beings who belong to themselves. 
> 
> This story is inspired by a few different Mills and Boons books that I have read, and none of which I own either. But, it will not be as contrite as those books, even if I do love reading them on a lazy Sunday afternoon. 
> 
> The title of this chapter is also from the song by the divine group The Ronettes, which I do not own either!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the first short chapter of this story.

_If you want something to play with_  
_Go and find yourself a toy_  
_Baby, my time is too expensive_  
_And I'm not a little boy_

 

Jensen gazed at the beautiful boy who sat at the table in the interview room. The beautiful boy—Jared Tristan Padalecki was his full name—did not know that Jensen was watching him, as the alpha stood on the opposite side of the two way mirror.  
He watched as Jared pushed his fringe away from his exotically titled eyes, his hands long and slim. He smiled as the interviewer asked him about his family, dimples showing.  
Jensen knew that he should be listening to Jared’s replies more concentratedly, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from staring at the boy. Taking in every facet of this stunning young omega, who wanted to be Jensen’s surrogate. Jensen could feel his cock pulse at the thought of Jared full of his child, and for the first time since the proceedings began, Jensen was glad that he would be having intercourse with his surrogate. He had no doubt that Jared was even more beautiful whilst nude than fully clothed.  
Jensen’s entire family was confused about why he wanted a surrogate. Everyone but his stepmother, but he could always count on her to be practical, even calculating at times. He was young, handsome (handsome was perhaps an understatement) and obscenely wealthy. But that was just the problem. He was so wealthy that every omega he met wanted to hop into bed with him so that they could mate with and marry him. Neither of which Jensen was interested in, especially because most of those omegas, betas and secondary alphas were after one thing: his obscene wealth. If he wanted someone to screw him for money, he’d just pay an escort.  
What he did want, though, was an heir. Not necessarily to carry on his empire or anything like that. Although he would undoubtedly groom his child, boy or girl, to be deft at the business that Jensen was involved in. He did not want a lazy, coddled child. Lazy, coddled people did not amass, or keep, the power or wealth that he controlled.  
A surrogate would make that possible, without the entanglements of mating and marriage, and having to be shot of a tiresome, gold digging spouse at some stage.  
This was what Jensen had planned in his head. But best laid plans and all that.

* * *

 

Jared hadn’t felt this nervous since he’d applied for university. And he didn’t think he was even _that_ nervous then. He didn’t think they’d asked him so many questions, never mind so many _personal_ questions, back then either.  
He understood that being a surrogate was a massive commitment, and that those who would being paying for his surrogacy wanted to be thorough. But being shy by nature, Jared found it difficult to answer so many probing questions.  
Flushing to the roots of his hair, he endeavoured to answer the most recent question asked by his interviewer.  
“Would you like me to repeat the question, Mr Padalecki?” the woman asked.  
Jared shook his head, “No, that won’t be necessary, thank you. Well, I don’t exactly know what sexual position I enjoy most.”  
“And why is that, Mr Padalecki?” she asked, her tone sounding vaguely accusatory.  
“Because,” he took a deep breath, before quickly replying. “I’m a virgin.”  
The woman stared at him for a long moment before rejoining with, “I see. You understand, Mr Padalecki, that I asked such a question because pleasure during intercourse will increase the likelihood of conception. Your being a virgin will complicate things somewhat, but the party for who you are acting as surrogate, is more than experienced enough to deal with such a… _situation_.”  
Her use of the word “situation” made Jared feel as if he’d just admitted that he suffered from some kind of disease. He internally bristled at the catch twenty two that omegas had to suffer everyday. If you weren’t a virgin then you were immoral, lose, but if you were a virgin, it was termed as a “situation”.  
_Just remember why you’re doing this_ , he reminded himself. _Don’t let your emotions get the better of you. Or some self satisfied secondary alpha._  
“I think that concludes our interview, Mr Padalecki,” she said, rising from the table and offering her hand to him. “We will contact you within the next week to let you know the decision that the interested party has made.”  
Jared didn’t take her hand, nor did he reply to her. He simply nodded his head before exiting the room.

* * *

 

Jensen smiled slightly as Jared snubbed the condescending interviewer.  
_He’s got spunk. I like that._  
Jensen smoothed his expression as the woman entered the observation room, her posture even more rigid than before, if possible.  
“I hope you found the interview to be successful, Mr Ackles,” she said, her tone intimating that she felt that it had been decidedly _unsuccessful._  
“Very,” he replied. “I want you to get all the papers ready. I’ve decided that Mr Padalecki is my choice of surrogate.”  
Her eyes widened, “Mr Ackles, if I may say so, I feel that Mr Padalecki is too young, naïve and—and wilful to be a suitable choice.”  
Jensen’s face hardened, “If I wanted your opinion, I’d give it to you. Now you will draw up all the necessary papers, or I will conduct my search through another agency, understood?”  
“Perfectly,” she floundered, before fleeing the room in order to fulfil Jensen’s command.

 

* * *

 

Reading always calmed Jared down. It allowed him to enter into another world, to live the lives of many, many different people. He was currently riding a sandworm, or Old Man of the Desert, as Paul Atreides. He could feel his heart pound with excitement as he imagined scaling the worm with hooks and riding it across the baked, pitiless sands of Arrakis.  
The portal into that desert world was abruptly snapped shut as his cellphone rang.  
“Hello,” he answered, not having recognised the number displayed on the screen.  
“Hello, Mr Padalecki?” the caller asked.  
“Speaking.”  
“Mr Padalecki, I’m phoning to inform you that you’ve been selected as surrogate to our interested party. If you accept, you must be at our premises in two days time at promptly 8 am. We will email all further instructions to you.”  
Jared didn’t reply for a moment, too surprised at having actually been chosen. The tenor of his interview had convinced him that he would never be chosen.  
“Mr Padalecki, are you still there?”  
“Yes, yes, I’m still here,” he replied hurriedly. “I understand, and I will report—um—arrive at your premises in two days time at 8 am.”  
“Very good, Mr Padalecki, We look forward to seeing you. Goodbye for now.”  
“Goodbye,” he replied.  
A few moments ticked by as he digested the news, but he was soon dialling his best friend, Felicia’s, number.  
“Hi Jay,” she answered after two rings. “What’s up?”  
“You know the surrogacy I applied for?”  
“Oh yeah, the one you had be treated as a human pin cushion and blood bank and be Dr Philled for?” he could hear her rolling her eyes.  
“I got it,” he breathed, still barely believing it himself.  
“Jay,” Felicia gasped. “Are—are you sure you still want to go through with this?”  
“Yes,” he said, trying to communicate conviction in that three letter word. “You know I need the money, Felicia. Otherwise I’ll never be able to go to grad school.”  
“I know,” she replied, her voice suddenly small. “It’s just…a lot, Jay. I mean, you have to give up your baby. Are you sure you can handle that?”  
“Yes,” Jared said, slowly.  
But even as he replied in the affirmative, he wasn’t sure if he was speaking the truth.

 


	2. Run Baby, Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from the song of the same name by Sheryl Crow, which I do not own. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments on the first chapter and all of the kudos! It really makes me so happy!

_Jared tried his best to make his way towards the elevators, but it was **so** difficult with the extra weight, and he just couldn’t seem to get his legs to move fast enough. He could hear those long, determined strides behind him, and his heart hammered so hard that he actually had a pain in his chest. The elevator doors were so close, and he lifted his arm as he made to press the button—_  
_He felt rather dazed as the sight of the elevator button was replaced with a pair of blazing peridot eyes, and his upper arms throbbed with the feeling of fingers like steel bands._

* * *

 

Jared looked around him at the room inside of the clinic. It was a lovely room. Tasteful beige wallpapered walls, with a white moulded ceiling and a large window that allowed a view of the mountains that were framed against the azure sky.  
He wiped his hands on his legs for about the fifth time, feeling the soft cotton of the clinic issue pants beneath his palms. The bed that he sat on was soft, with a divinely high, luxurious mattress, and cool, good quality linen.  
He could’ve been sitting in a cell for all the luxury of his surroundings did to assuage his crippling nervousness and trepidation. If his— _employer,_ for that’s what he was, wasn’t he?—would just arrive and this could all start and end already, then he’d feel so much better. Incomparably better. But it seemed that more he looked at the door, the less likely his mysterious employer’s arrival seemed.  
The nurse had given him a delicious lunch to eat—beef ravioli with mushroom sauce, a greek salad, and gently bubbling grape juice, _and_ a jug of ice water— but he had hardly touched any of it, except for the ice water, which he’d gulped down like a man stranded in the Gobi desert.  
He huffed in barely contained frustration as he rose from the bed and went over to the window and pushed it open, before leaning out of it and taking a deep inhale of the fresh air. A bird flew overhead, a lovely jade and sapphire coloured one, and Jared suddenly longed to be a bird in that moment. To be able to fly away, far, far away, to somewhere warm where he wouldn’t have to worry about money, or childbearing, or meeting and sleeping with an alpha he’d never met and would never really know.

His neck took strain as he snapped around at the sound of the door opening. The man standing in the doorway was tall and broad shouldered. His hair short and honey coloured, above a face characterised by defined, classically handsome features. He was decidedly beautiful, which was enhanced by the absolute haughtiness of his expression and the entrancing quality of his green eyes. Unlike Jared, he had not been made to wear the soft, nondescript cotton outfit of clinic issue. His shirt was burgundy with a slight sheen just to hint at how expensive it was, and his black slacks were cut to accentuated the thick, muscular thighs and long, slim calves. His watch was silver, also clearly expensive, could probably easily have set Jared up for grad school on its own.  
“Hello, Jared,” said the alpha, for he undoubtedly was an alpha, and a powerful one at that if his physique and scent were testament. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Jensen.”  
Jensen’s voice sent shivers racing up and down Jared’s spine and caused his stomach to flutter as if he was thirteen again.  
He cleared his throat and drew back his shoulders, “Hello.”  
His voice sounded far more assured and confident than he felt, but Jensen smiled knowingly at him, as if he was _quite_ aware of how he made Jared feel.  
“I don’t think we need to waste time with pleasantries,” Jensen said, closing the door behind him with a definite click. “We both know what we’re here for.”  
Jared’s mouth went dry as Jensen quickly and efficiently unbuttoned and discarded his shirt to reveal a well muscled chest and flat, taut stomach. The well cut slacks joined the shirt on the clothes stand by the door, and was followed by his shoes, and finally the black, tight boxer shorts. Jared couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip as he took in the long, half hard thickness of Jensen’s cock where it hung between his strong thighs. The hair around it was golden red and neatly trimmed to give an unobstructed view of how well endowed the alpha was, with the looser skin at the base that would house his knot.  
Jensen unabashedly strode up to Jared, glorious in his nakedness, the only article left on his body being his watch. He pulled Jared’s shirt over his head and as soon as the garment was discarded, cupped Jared’s pectorals and squeezed them as his broad thumbs massaged his erect nipples. Jensen did not wait for Jared’s permission before he kissedhim, his tongue filling the omega’s mouth as he thrust his cock against soft cotton covering Jared’s. Jensen ceased his massaging of Jared’s chest before gripping his pants and underwear and pulling them down Jared’s coltishly long legs. He knelt in front of the boy as he ran his hands up and down the lightly haired skin of those mile long legs. He firmly cupped Jared’s buttocks as he swiftly lifted him up and dumped him on the bed.  
Jared wasn’t given an opportunity to regain his composure before Jensen was over him, kissing him just as intensely as before as he thrust a single, thick finger into Jared’s heated centre. Jared cried out into his mouth, his thighs tightening on either side of Jensen’s hips, which increased when Jensen added a second finger, scissoring them so that Jared both sought to thrust against and withdraw from that foreign intrusion.  
He felt utterly unprepared as Jensen slid down his body until his face was level with where his fingers were, and began to kiss the space in-between said fingers as if it were Jared’s mouth. He gripped the sheets so hard that he thought that they might tear. His feet slid down Jensen’s flexing back, and he couldn’t suppress the sounds that poured out of him, so loud and full of ecstasy.  
He couldn’t catch his breath, and it almost entirely escaped him as he was flipped onto his stomach. He could feel Jensen’s erection against his relaxed entrance, so hot and wet, adding to the slick practically _flowing_ out of him. He pushed back against the would be intrusion and heard Jensen make a tutting noise. He was just about to ask why Jensen was torturing him, when he was filled so utterly that he screamed unashamedly and climaxed in long, violent jets from his cock and quirted slick from where Jensen was currently thrusting into him, filling him with that driving, unyielding alpha penis.  
Jensen’s knot began to fill, and the alpha growled in a mixture of pleasure and surprise. His knot never swelled so quickly, not since he’d first formed it. He watched as it kissed Jared’s stretched core, wanting to plunge it into that magnificently tight heat. And he did, with almost savage force, causing the boy to bow sharply and clench around him hard enough to border on painful. His semen flooded the omega’s insides, wringing another orgasm from him until he collapsed, his eyes at half mast.  
Jared didn’t dare utter a word while they were tied. Jensen’s arm was over his side, but there was no tenderness in it, only practicality. This was not at all how Jared had imagined himself losing his virginity. While like most, he did not imagine rose petals and soft music, there was always a hope for tenderness, emotional connection, love. But there was none of those things between he and Jensen. The alpha had proved the interviewer right, he was indeed very experienced. He had made Jared feel immense pleasure, and the three more times that he knotted Jared were no exception. By the end of their coupling, Jared’s stomach was slightly distended with Jensen’s release. But there was no tender caressing, only silence, and then the sound of Jensen showering and then dressing afterwards. Thrice Jensen had taken Jared from behind, and there had been no kissing whilst or after he knotted the omega. And the kissing that had been, was purely claiming, to remind Jared of his function within the situation, not to show any deeper emotional meaning.  
“Goodbye, Jared,” Jensen said, standing by the doorway looking as pristinely groomed as when he entered hours before. “I’ll be in contact to monitor the pregnancy, as will those in my employ. Take care of yourself and the child.”  
With that, Jensen was gone, leaving Jared to shower—and stare unseeingly—in the luxurious bathroom adjoining the “bedroom”. 

* * *

 

 

Jared was glad that Dr Pileggi had comfortable chairs in his office, because at eight months pregnant, anything that wasn’t comfortable was _murder_ on his back. Well, his entire body really, but especially his back. He shifted slightly as he waited for the doctor to return to his desk. Partly because he was nervous—he was nervous every time he had a checkup— must mostly because he needed to pee, _again._  
Dr Pileggi finally sat down behind his desk and gave Jared a small smile, “Right, Jared, everything looks great. I see you’ve been sticking to the meal plan I gave you, and you’ve managed to gain a little weight, which has definitely helped baby. Things are progressing nicely, and I see no reason for you not to carry full term. I’m glad the morning sickness has abated.”  
“Me, too, doctor,” Jared smiled. “Nothing worse than throwing up two meals a day.”  
Dr Pileggi’s smile grew incrementally, but remained professional, “A natural birth is entirely possible, and you know all your options if that changes. Any questions, Jared?”  
Jared shook his head, “I think the bean and I are okay, thanks, Doctor.”  
“Glad to hear it. Hopefully I’ll only see you again in two weeks for your second last check up before the big day.”  
Jared nodded and rose from his chair as gracefully as he could, which was decidedly _not_ elegantly.

It was punishingly cold outside, and Jared was glad that he’d layered. He did his shopping at the little vegetable shop and butcher down the road from his apartment, making sure to greet Mr Goldstein and Mrs Chomsky. He carried his groceries bags home despite both proprietors’ consternation and offers of assistance from one of their delivery boys. Jared liked to show people that even though he was pregnant, he was not made out of papier-mâché.  
Once home, he started supper while watching an episode of _Stranger Things_ from the kitchen. He probably shouldn’t watch such emotive programming so close to his due date, but it was one of his favourite programmes.  
He switched over to _You’ve Got Mail_ once he sat down to eat his egg fried rice with pork bits. Half way through the film, his son began to kick him in the ribs, clearly deciding that such a vital part of Jared’s anatomy was thwarting his efforts to get comfortable in a seemingly ever shrinking space.  
“Sorry, kiddo,” Jared sighed. “I’m afraid you can’t size up until you come out.”  
Jared’s cellphone began to ring right on schedule. It was Jensen, who didn’t bother with the pleasantries—his signature move it seemed—and plunged straight into interrogating Jared about his obstetrics appointment. Jared dutifully answered all questions and told the alpha that he’d already sent a scan of the latest sonogram to Jensen’s secretary.  
“I’m pleased to hear that everything is going so well,” Jensen said, making the sentence sound as formal and detached as possible. “Let us hope it remains so.”  
“Yes,” Jared replied. “I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”  
In the near future, he’d live to regret his assurance.

* * *

It was less than two weeks before Jared’s due date, and he realised that there was no way that he was giving up his baby to be raised by that cold hearted knot-brain. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how powerful Jensen was, and that if he ran, he’d have to run _far_.  
And so he did, right after his penultimate appointment with Dr Pileggi; all the way to a small town that looked like something out of a Cold War era family sitcom, complete with people actually saying, “How ya neighbour!” every morning.  
The only person he told was Felicia, who was understandably extremely worried about Jared’s decision, but supported it nonetheless because “that guy sounds like an uber asshole”.  
But Jared might as well have run to the moon for all it succeeded in making sure that Jensen didn’t find him.

* * *

 

Now he was staring into the most handsome, but furious face he’d ever had the displeasure of being the cause of. He was so frightened that his son gave a mighty kick, causing him to wince. Jensen’s expression cleared somewhat, but he still steered Jared back to his apartment. He’d clearly had someone following the omega, because there was no other way that he could possibly know the number of said apartment.  
Once they were inside, Jared collapsed on the couch.  
“So you found me,” he huffed.  
“I’m surprised you didn’t think I would,” Jensen replied, his voice like a glacier.  
“Because you _never_ let an investment slip through your sure fingers.”  
“Yes, and because what’s mine is mine, and I don’t like it being taken from me.”

“This baby may be yours,” Jared ground out. “But he’s _also_ mine. And you don’t _own me_ or our son. This isn’t sixteenth century Massachusetts for _Christ’s_ sake.”  
“It may not be, Jared,” Jensen replied, eerily calm. “But imagine what it’ll look like in court when I explain how you signed a contract to bear my child, and how you broke that contract. _And_ how you are in a far less financially desirable position than me to raise our child—“  
“Our son, Jensen,” Jared interjected. “Say it! Our _son_! He’s not some inanimate, far away idea anymore, he’s your _son._ ”

Jensen frowned, “You seem to share your friend Felicia’s opinion of me.”  
“Oh I see, so you went and interrogated my _best friend?_ ” Jared demanded, making to rise from the couch.  
Jensen gently pushed him back down, “It was understandably the first place I looked.”  
“And I’m sure Felicia gave you no joy.”  
“No. She called me a “smug, alpha bastard who didn’t deserve to kiss the ground you walked on” to be exact.”  
_Good old Felicia. Always to be trusted and counted on._

“This little… _escapade_ of yours has proven to me that you can’t be trusted to live alone, Jared, and so you’ll be accompanying me to my home.”  
“ _Excuse me?_ ” Jared cried angrily, succeeding in getting up from the couch this time. “And just _where_ the _hell_ is that?”  
“San Teres,” Jensen replied matter of factly, straightening the already perfectly aligned edges of his shirt cuffs.  
“ _What_?” Jared exploded. “If you think for one _fucking moment_ that I am going to go and live on some tropical island—“

Jensen stepped forward and suddenly gripped Jared’s face, just hard enough to remind the omega of how physically strong he was, how easily he could injure or _kill_ Jared.  
“Listen to me very nicely, Jared,” he said, his voice perfectly level. “It was you and not me who needlessly complicated our arrangement, who needlessly changed the dynamics of this situation. Now I am tired of you arguing with me. You either agree to spend the remainder of your pregnancy at my very comfortable home on San Teres, or you fight me in court and you lose.”  
Jared violently pulled away from Jensen and glared at him hatefully, “Fine, _alpha._ Whatever you say, _alpha._ But just know one thing: I am this child’s _om_ , and you won’t be getting rid of me so easily once he’s born.”  
Jensen merely raised his eyebrows, before looking around with an expression of distaste and replying, “Make sure you pack everything you need. Whatever you don’t have, we’ll buy.”  
Jared expected him to leave, but Jensen sat down on the couch and gave Jared a pointed look. Jared huffed again and went to his room to pack.  
Once inside, he whispered to his unborn son, “It’s okay, sugarplum. I’m never leaving you. _Never._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Om is the name for one's omega father. Jared and Jensen's family histories will be explored more in the succeeding chapters. Jensen's point of view about events so far will also be explored in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from the calypso song by Sir Lancelot. I, of course, do not own the song.

_Ah woe! Ah me!_

 

“The kid has run,” Markham, the man assigned to watch over Jared, informed Jensen. “I’ve managed to track him so far, but he’s clever. Clearly knows that you’ve assigned him a guardian angel.”  
      Jensen suppressed his desire to explode with rage, “I see. Keep on him. Send me your location and I’ll send assistance.”  
“Thank you, sir,” Markham replied, before hanging up.  
     Jensen steepled his hands against his mouth as he forced himself to mentally and physically relax, instead of sweeping everything off of his desk in a furious frenzy and allowing it all to shatter on the floor of his palatial office.  
So Jared had decided to change the dynamics of the situation, to break the legally binding contract he had signed. He felt a pang of extreme irritation at the fact that the interviewer had been correct in her reading of Jared. It seemed that he was indeed naïve, inexperienced and most of all, _wilful_. He had found that to be amusing during the interview, but that amusement had utterly evaporated. Jensen was not used to being disobeyed. He hadn’t been tried since his nanny when he was seven, and that had _not_ ended well. People did not _fuck_ with him and get away with it. Jensen did not care how irresistible and beautiful Jared was, he would be no exception.  
     Jensen thought back to he and Jared’s coupling in the clinic. He had sensed something in Jared then, a certain defiance and dissatisfaction, as if he expected more of Jensen. They were not lovers or mates, and Jensen had wanted to make that perfectly clear. Although he could not deny that his reaction to Jared had been very strong. He had never been so eager to thoroughly knot a person during intercourse. In fact, he seldom knotted his partners because it just meant far too much physical contact. While it had been necessary for Jensen to knot Jared in order to impregnate him, Jensen could not claim that that was why he’d wanted to knot the omega. It was the feeling of being inside Jared, the way Jared responded to his touch, the sight of him reaching release. The strange, unidentifiable and alien emotion that Jensen had felt during and after knotting. _  
_

He had not lain his arm over Jared’s side purely out of necessity. He could have left it resting on his own side. While it would have been an uncomfortable position, it wouldn’t have been unbearable. He’d put his arm over Jared in order to feel more of the omega’s skin, so smooth and warm, so _soft._ So beautiful smelling.  
      Even now he inhaled as he thought about the warmth of that gorgeous skin as he had exposed it by removing that plain cotton outfit the clinic had given Jared. And even in that nondescript ensemble Jared stirred something within him.  
        Jensen decisively shut down that thought.  
He turned his attention back to the matter at hand, which was finding the runaway omega and reminding him of his place. 

* * *

 

Jensen watched Jared as he shopped at a little bookshop in the generic little town he’d run away to. Completely oblivious to the fact that he’d been found. It hadn’t been easy to find him. It had taken a very long, frustrating week, in which the fear of Jared giving birth had mounted until Jensen experienced a seemingly permanent feeling of ice cold fury. Everyone around him had suffered because of it.  
          He grudgingly admitted to himself that Jared looked even more beautiful than when he’d seen him last, almost six months before. His hair was slightly longer, just past chin length, glossy and dark with hints of chestnut and mahogany. Despite his advanced pregnancy, his body was still svelte and elegant. His skin looked so smooth, and Jensen felt a tangible urge to caress it, to see it unobstructed by clothing.  
         He watched as Jared made his way down the street, clearly in some discomfort. Jensen got out of his car and followed at a safe distance, until Jared came to a small apartment building, which was disturbingly easy to get into. Obviously the Brady Bunch’s stomping ground didn’t have much crime.  
Jared took the elevator while Jensen took the two flights of stairs, arriving just after Jared was already halfway down the passage to his apartment. He could tell when Jared realised that he’d been followed, as the omega halted and abruptly turned back towards the elevators. Due to the extra weight he was carrying, Jensen was able to catch him rather easily, pulling him around so that his large, tilted eyes were shining with acute apprehension.  
       Jared’s face twisted in pain and he gripped his stomach, and Jensen felt a pang at the thought that their child was being affected by Jared’s obvious fear. He directed Jared back to the apartment to thwart anymore escape attempts, and to make sure that Jared sat, instead of fell, down.  
     The apartment was small, depressingly so really, with an open planned living room and kitchen, and what looked like a tiny bathroom and shoe box bedroom. Jensen shuddered at the thought of his child growing up in such a place.  
       Jensen made Jared sit down on the couch, which earned him a glare for his trouble.  
“So you found me,” Jared huffed, dropping his gaze to his distended stomach.  
“I’m surprised you didn’t think I would,” Jensen replied, battling to keep his voice even.  
“Because you _never_ let an investment slip through your sure fingers,” Jared almost spat, his eyes ablaze and his posture rigid.  
“Yes, and because what’s mine is mine, and I don’t like it being taken from me,” Jensen admitted. 

“This baby may be yours,” Jared ground out. “But he’s also _mine._ And you don’t own _me_ or _our_ son. This isn’t sixteenth century Massachusetts for _Christ’s_ sake.”  
The thought of having Jared as his suddenly filled him with a fierce sense of— _desire._ Something _primal_ bloomed inside of him, something that wanted Jared to _submit_ to this desire. But he squashed that thought _very_ quickly.            

     There was no room for that kind of thinking.  
“It may not be, Jared,” Jensen replied, feeling his ire rise at Jared’s continued aggression. “But imagine what it’ll look like in court when I explain how you signed a contract to bear my child, and how you broke that contract. And how you are in a far less financially desirable position than me to raise our child—“  
     “Our _son,_ Jensen,” Jared interjected, seemingly unconsciously cupping his rounded belly. “Say it! Our _son_! He’s not some inanimate, far away idea anymore, he’s your _son_.”  
      Jensen frowned, affronted at Jared’s belief that Jensen didn’t think of their child as living, _real,_ “You seem to share your friend Felicia’s opinion of me.”

      “Oh I see, so you went and interrogated my _best_ friend?” Jared demanded, making to rise from the couch.  
Jensen gently pushed him back down, not wanting to injure him or the baby, “It was understandably the first place I looked.”  
      “And I’m sure Felicia gave you no joy.”  
Jensen thought of that fiery little beta, who had jabbed her finger in Jensen’s chest and all but thrown him out of her apartment.  
     “No. She called me a “smug, alpha bastard who didn’t deserve to kiss the ground you walked on” to be exact,” he admitted, exasperatedly.  
He couldn’t mistake the look of satisfaction on Jared’s face at that, and it made him feel more angry.  
    “This little… _escapade_ of yours has proven to me that you can’t be trusted to live alone, Jared, and so you’ll be accompanying me to my home.”  
    “Excuse me?” Jared cried angrily, succeeding in getting up from the couch this time. “And just _where_ the _hell_ is that?”

“San Teres,” Jensen replied matter of factly, trying to appear unaffected by Jared’s rising distress by needlessly straightening the already perfectly aligned edges of his shirt cuffs.  
    “ _What?”_ Jared exploded. “If you think for one _fucking moment_ that I am going to go and live on some tropical island—“  
      While Jensen found Jared’s anger to be slightly amusing, as he looked more like a furious feline than an actual threat, he needed to be reminded that Jensen was not in the wrong here. That he was on extremely thin ice at the moment.  
    Jensen stepped forward and deliberately gripped Jared’s face, just hard enough to remind the omega of how physically strong he was, how his touch could be used for both pleasure and deadly force. He was momentarily distracted by how beautiful Jared’s eyes looked, and how silken his skin was, not to mention how fine the sharp bones of his face felt beneath his hands. He refocused his thinking, being sure to reign in both his desire and bubbling anger.  
     “Listen to me very nicely, Jared,” he said, pleased to note how calm he sounded. “It was you and not me who needlessly complicated our arrangement, who needlessly changed the dynamics of this situation. Now I am tired of you arguing with me. You either agree to spend the remainder of your pregnancy at my very comfortable home on San Teres, or you fight me in court and you lose.”  
     Jared violently pulled away from Jensen and glared at him hatefully, which caused Jensen to feel slightly taken aback at such vehement dislike, “Fine, _alpha._ Whatever you say, _alpha._ But just know one thing: I am this child’s _om,_ and you won’t be getting rid of me so easily once he’s born.”  
      Jensen raised his eyebrows, his jaw clenching at Jared’s clear sign of disrespect—never before had he wanted so badly to administer corporal punishment to an omega— before looking around with more distaste and replying,          “Make sure you pack everything you need. Whatever you don’t have, we’ll buy.”  
     He could see that Jared expected him to leave, but Jensen sat down on the couch and gave Jared a pointed look. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to give the resourceful omega the opportunity to escape again.  
     When Jared had gone into his shoebox bedroom to pack, Jensen pulled out his cellphone in order to make the necessary arrangements to make the trip to his place of birth. 

* * *

 

When they a landed in San Teres, the heat was palpable, as if instead of breathing one drank the almost insufferably hot air. Jared could feel himself sweating almost as soon as he walked—no, _waddled_ —off the plane. Jensen’s usual calm was undisturbed, and Jared disliked him even more for his composure while Jared ached and felt overheated.  
        His feeling of discomfiture only increased when they got in the car and had to drive over roads that while tarred, were not exactly perfectly even. Jensen paid him no mind as he shifted and winced as they drove. Fields of sugarcane stretched out for seemingly endless miles in each direction, until it gave way to dense vegetation that looked as if it grew and thrived right from the fallen and decomposing corpses of of its own kind. There was the distinctly sweet smell of rotting plants. But there was a definite beauty about the surroundings, unlike anything Jared had ever seen before. A cruel beauty, untamed and unmanicured. It reminded Jared of Jensen, and he thought that perhaps he could understand why Jensen acted in the manner he did, having grown up in this place.  
        When they arrived at the house, having come down a long, winding gravel drive that was bordered by the same thick, but slightly more tamed, vegetation along the road; Jared sat up slightly straighter. The house was clearly old, colonial if he was not mistaken, with its bold columns and white exterior. It had obviously been well maintained and renovated over the years, for there was no sign of peeling paint or the slow onset of decay.  
        A handsome black man exited the house as they came to a stop in front of the main entrance.  
            “Hello, Jensen,” the man greeted.  
This close up, Jared could see that the man was very handsome, with an extremely infectious smile and a finely muscled body that was accentuated by his light cotton shirt and trousers.  
      “Hello Kendrick,” Jensen greeted in turn, gently cupping the man’s hand and kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “How have you been?”  
Jared felt slightly shocked at the open display of affection, but Kendrick clearly felt no such emotion and he continued to smile at Jensen.  
       “Fine, thanks,” his pale eyes shifted to Jared. “And you must be Jared. It’s very good to meet you.”  
Jared shook Kendrick’s hand, noting how firm his grip was and how elegant his fingers were.  
      “It’s—it’s good to meet you, too,” Jared replied, shyly.  
Kendrick’s smile, if possible, grew as he said, “You didn’t tell me how beautiful he was, Jensen. I don’t blame you, though. I wouldn’t let this one out of my sight. Especially with Josh around.”  
      Jensen’s face grew hard at the mention of this other man’s name, and Jared felt intrigued, playing careful attention to the alpha’s clipped reply.  
       “I don’t think I need to worry about Josh. He knows his place.”  
Kendrick raised an eyebrow, looking decidedly unconvinced, before saying, “I’d best be off. There’s supposed to be a storm later, and I don’t want us to be caught unawares.”

Jensen’s posture relaxed slightly as he nodded, “Thanks, Kendrick.”  
     The other man jammed a hat onto his shaven head before mischievously tipping it in Jared’s direction, whistling as he walked down the path away from the house.  
Jensen did not offer any explanation about who Kendrick was, but Jared didn’t expect any. Jensen was making it very clear that Jared was not important enough to be privy to such information.  
It was blessedly cool as they entered the house, which Jared couldn’t help instantly falling in love with, with its tastefully marbled floors and its gloriously uncluttered, but not sparse, egg shell coloured walls. A large, beautifully carved staircase led to the upper floor landing, drawing the eye to a beautifully restored vintage chandelier. Shiny rubber plants, their seemingly hand-painted leaves overflowing from large pots, framed the staircase.  
       “Monsieur Ackles,” said a woman with shiny, dark hair fastened in a high ponytail and large, brown eyes. She wore a pristine domestic worker’s uniform.  
        “Hello Françoise,” Jensen returned. “How are you?”  
       “Well, thank you, sir. Madam Ackles will be pleased that you’ve arrived in time for lunch. I can show Monsieur Padalecki to his room in order to freshen up, if you like,” she made sure to acknowledge Jared’s presence, but she was clearly addressing Jensen.  
        “Good idea,” Jensen turned to Jared. “Françoise will show you everything you need. If there’s anything you want, just ask her.”  
With that Jensen disappeared through the large doorway into what appeared to be the front room. Jared had no choice but to follow Françoise, which he resented because it meant that he had to follow Jensen’s _orders,_ for the alpha never _requested_ anything.  
They climbed the stairs to the upper level, and by the time they’d reached the top, Jared felt winded and even more overheated. His shirt clung to his lower back, and his feet ached in the strap over sandals that he wore. They felt decidedly swollen.  
         He tried to distract himself from his discomfort by taking in the passage way as he followed the housekeeper. It had wooden ceiling fans with gentle swaying copper coloured chains that when pulled, would illuminate the light nestled between the blades. The walls were lined with portraits of men and women who Jared assumed were Jensen’s ancestors. Some of them looked at least a century old, dressed in stunning finery, all wearing stern or vaguely disinterested expressions within the confines of gilded frames.  
          Françoise opened a door of pale wood panelling, to reveal a large room furnished with cool colours and filled with sunlight and blessedly cool air from both a wooden ceiling fan, much like those in the passage, and a gently humming modern wall mounted air-conditioning unit. The beiges and eggshell whites of the room were broken by the pale blue of the french doors that opened onto a small balcony that overlooked the winking aquamarine of the sea. The canopy bed had delicate mosquito netting and incredibly soft looking bedding. The wooden floor felt divinely cool as Jared removed his shoes and followed Françoise into the equally palatial bathroom, with its clawfoot bath and huge wall mounted mirrors. A large window, framed by shutters in the same pale blue of the french doors, also allowed an inviting view of the shimmering ocean waters.  
          “Would you like me to run you a bath, Monsieur Jared?” Françoise asked, her voice and face remaining utterly impassive.  
Jared shook his head, “No thank you. I’ll just have a quick wash before lunch.”  
          “Very good,” she nodded. “Would Monsieur require anything else?”  
Jared’s gaze was drawn to the ocean again, “Um…how do you get down to the—ah—beach?”  
        Françoise’s surprise at the question was only portrayed in an infinitesimal twitching of her brows before she replied, “There is a path that leads from the house down to it. When Monsieur Sampson returns I can ask him to show you, if you wish?”  
         Jared nodded, “Yes. If it’s not too much bother. Thank you, Françoise.”  
“Very good,” she repeated. “Lunch will be served in fifteen minutes. Just go through the main doors on the right hand side of the stairs when you come down, Monsieur Jared.”  
         Before Jared could thank her again, she had left the room with a soft click of the door behind her.  
Jared ran some water into one of the large sinks in the bathroom and went about washing himself as best he could. He could feel the fatigue of the journey setting in, and as he looked at himself in the wall mirrors, he could see that there were lines of tension and onsetting exhaustion characterising his posture. But he wouldn’t let on. Wouldn’t give Jensen the satisfaction of knowing that things were getting to him, that he _needed_ Jensen’s help.  
                   He dressed in fresh clothes and went downstairs to face everyone. 

* * *

 

When Jensen entered the living room, his stepmother was sitting on one of the couches whilst reading a novel. She looked elegant as usual, with a knee length wrap around green dress, matching pumps, and her hair styled in a chignon.  
           She put her book aside and rose from the couch as he approached her.  
“Hello, Helen,” he greeted, kissing her on the cheek.  
“Hello, Jensen,” she replied. “Where’s the omega?”  
“His name’s Jared,” he rejoined coolly. “He’s upstairs in his room.”  
“I really can’t wait to meet the omega who managed to give you so much trouble,” she said, sitting back down on the couch. “I hope he was worth the trouble.”  
         “You know very well that it’s not him that I’ve made all this effort for,” Jensen rejoined curtly.  
          “If you say so, darling.”  
          “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.  
Helen shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s just that I think your pride has been affected. And I also think that all have this has been rather unnecessary.”  
           “If you’re referring to Reeve—“  
            “You _know_ I’m not.”  
Jensen’s reply was cut off by Françoise entering the room and announcing that lunch was ready.  
         “Shall we?” Helen said, preceding Jensen from the room as if they hadn’t been on the verge of a heated argument.  
Jared was descending the stairs as they entered the entrance hall, and Jensen observed his stepmother give the omega a thorough once over. He could tell that she hadn’t expected Jared to be so striking, for at almost nine months pregnant, he seemed almost too beautiful.  
        “You must be Jared,” she said, holding out her perfectly manicured hand. “How lovely to meet you.”  
        “Likewise, Mrs Ackles,” Jared returned politely, briefly shaking her hand.  
Helen’s face was a perfect mask of practiced geniality as she led her stepson and his surrogate into the dining room. Jensen forced himself not to scowl as he saw his half brother enter the room from one of the side doors.  
        “Oh Josh,” Helen smiled at her son. “So glad you could join us for lunch.”  
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Josh replied meaningfully, as he looked at Jared.  
          Jensen looked at the omega, who seemed both uncomfortable and intrigued by Josh’s entrance, and Jensen felt a completely irrational emotion: jealousy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I saw a poody-tat *side eye*. I hope you enjoyed that and didn't want to beat Jensen around the TOO much.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and kudos if you feel so inclined, they are always much appreciated! 
> 
> And I'd also like to thank all of you for supporting the stories I write, because without you, the years I've been writing fan fiction would not have been anywhere near as fulfilling as they have been! So thank you, thank you!


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